


Voicing out the words he cannot say.

by Kaesteranya



Category: Magna Carta: Tears of Blood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-10
Updated: 2010-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-18 23:39:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaesteranya/pseuds/Kaesteranya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thoughts while cutting your lover apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voicing out the words he cannot say.

**Author's Note:**

> Positioned during and after their final fight. Written for iWHORE 2009, requested by [](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=kitsune_jade)[**kitsune_jade**](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=kitsune_jade). The title is taken from the [](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=31_days)[**31_days**](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=31_days) theme for July 21, 2008.

  
Calintz isn’t thinking of much, as he stares across the distance separating his sword from Agreian’s heart – not thinking, perhaps, but seeing, maybe. Seeing snippets of the past, memories of all the little things that used to matter. Agreian in the odd half-light of the morning, standing naked in his room. Agreian smiling, a shadow of a gesture that could have easily been passed off as an illusion, as he pressed himself deep between the cheeks of Calintz’s ass. Agreian speaking to him, kind words over eyes that he never realized held nothing for him. Nothing for anyone but himself.

  
He isn’t thinking of much, as his feet carry him over that distance and he draws first blood. His mind’s mixing things up, perhaps, making him feel the way their blades sing against each other as though he and Agreian were still tangled up in each other, sweat-slicked skin sliding over sweat-slicked skin. Tripping him up, perhaps, when he finds himself nearly nose-to-nose with Agreian during a deadlock and he recalls what it was like to taste those lips and lick the inside of that cheek. Meddlesome thing, really, about as meddlesome as his heart thrumming away in his chest, as if it wasn’t pumping out more blood for the sole purpose of bleeding him out with every cut Agreian managed to land, in his carelessness.

  
When he lands the final blow, sinks his sword hilt deep into Agreian’s cut/reaches out to catch the other in his arms and hold that shaking body against his own/hears a spiteful little laugh coated with blood rasp against his ears, Calintz wonders if this if Agreian’s feeling a bit of what it used to be like for him, to have the other man buried balls deep into him whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

  
By the time it occurs to ask Agreian himself, Agreian’s no longer breathing.  



End file.
